Devils Tongue
by Waltz-of-the-Dead
Summary: A prince of Rome always gets what he wants, but this gift doesn’t compare to any treasure he has ever received. Gin/Ed Read the authors note please....


**Long authors note**

Alright here we go my lucky, lucky people you get to suffer one of my rum stories…so be grateful. This has been making my brain itch for about two months when it randomly popped into my head as result of drinking too much Tattoo and listening to Craig Armstrong. I feel just a little hesitant for posting this…so here is the over view.

I am assuming that the Wuncler family has had power that thread far back into the blood spattered realms of Rome. The names in the beginning will be slightly altered though will be twisted to become Gin and Ed (Ead same thing). The year really does not concern me, though it is in the times before Christ and of course after the fall of the Etruscans. Historical accuracy…meh if I make a mistake either forget it or not but I wont fix it…so…yeah.

**Rated T-M for later chapters contains blood and gore, sexual content later. This is not the whole thing I am just posting this to see the reaction. So here we go and enjoy. Don't worry**** Unknown, Unknowns ****will**** continue….**

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks though I wish I did. Gin/Ed. Ed/Gin

Summary: A prince of Rome always gets what he wants, but this gift doesn't compare to any treasure he has received. His eyes were so alluring, blue as the glimmering waters of the Mediterranean and flickering with an untamed seething fire that even the chains of slavery could not extinguish.

Devils Tongue

Steel flickered against the darkness slicing though flesh, and a scream primal with agony ripped through the night. Moonlight sparked against a sword blade wet with blood threading the crimson with silver.

A young warrior his hair braided in the intricate designs of the Danes and Celts staggered and fell to his knees, gritting his teeth against the pain that seared across his back. Blood trickled down his spine pouring from the hideous gash that ran across his shoulders where the blade had slipped between his armor.

"Careless fool, look at what you have done!"

The scourge was irritated,his voice roiling with the savage crack of a whip. The abrupt motion causing the chains and manacles draped across his shoulders to clink together, singing that they were eager for a prisoner. His companion, a Scythian, dressed in ragged purple silks snorted replying with a disdainful sneer,

"Keep that whip twisted around your wrist slaver or you may find it wrapped around your coward neck,"

Their fiery words washed over the Dane blurring together then coming to sharp focus, heaving against his skull making bile rise to the back of his throat.He knew the language; it was wickedly melodic, and spun from the mouths the Great Conquers, spillers of blood, capturers of glory…Romans.

He swallowed and rested his forehead against the hilt of his blood slick sword and drew in a rattling breath. Darkness tainted the edges of his eyes and he fought back unconsciousness that threatened to take hold of him as he lurched to his feet.

Jeering laughter lashed against him causing his temper to flare,

"Ah, see? He's fine, just a little scratch and nothing more I'm sure Lord Ead won't even notice. Besides it seems a taste of steel has taken some of the fire out of him."

The Scythian flicked his blade to bleeding man a wicked smile twisting across his features reveling blackened teeth that had been capped with silver. He gracefully circle the panting Dane his voice cruel and mocking,

"Come little warrior, have another sip of my sword…."

Eyes the seething hue sapphires followed the Scythian as he paced back and forth with frightening clarity. A blood stained grin crept across his lips,

"Mijn spriet vraagpremie voor uw bloed Scythian,"

The other mans eyes narrowed in annoyance; he had dealt with these types before, stubborn and young unwilling to accept defeat and a life in chains,

"Lay down your blade boy…there is no way you are going to slip out of this, save your self from being scathed by the whip and the edge of my sword."

"Snavset Roman knokle…I would rather die,"

The slaver grinned running his tongue over his silver teeth,

"Oh you will welcome death before this is over,"


End file.
